


Oblivion

by InkStainsOnMyHands



Category: Buzzfeed - Fandom, Buzzfeed Unsolved
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Demons, M/M, Memory Magic, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Non-Linear Narrative, Shane is the lord of the underworld, Slow Burn, Sort of? - Freeform, also he likes trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 04:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11283897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: Tragic consequences typically follow when a god falls in love with a human. Typically...Based on the comment:"My theory is that Shane is the devil and was just super bored. Then one day he chanced upon a poor scared Ryan and thought “this is pretty fun” and now follows him to supernatural sights to have a giggle at his expense. But that’s also why they never capture anything on video, because the evil spirits and demons know Shane for who he really is and are too afraid to mess with him."





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I initially wrote this with the Shane-is-the-devil head canon in mind, however, it completely ran away from me. What you get is this non-linear mythological story. I know this isn't going to be for everyone. Yes, it will be confusing, but I promise you, if you stick with it until the end, it will eventually make sense.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> And in the night, you'll hear me calling  
> You'll hear me calling  
> And in your dreams, you'll see us falling, falling  
> And in the night, you'll hear me calling  
> You'll hear me calling  
> And in your dreams, you'll see us falling, falling
> 
> Breathe in the light and say goodbye  
> Breathe in the light and say goodbye  
> 

Dark crimson rivers of blood ran from Ryan’s slack-jawed maw, pooling over the hardened grass beneath his tennis shoes.

Shane could only stare as his lover’s vibrant visage slowly faded in brilliance, and the macabre sounds of dripping echoed through the still forest. Ryan slumped forward, knees bent, arms loose at his sides, seemingly only held upright by the sword of ice that had pierced his chest. A terrible gurgle escaped his throat, and then he was gone. 

The near silent moment that followed lasted an eternity, but all at once, it was broken by a bestial wail. 

Shane fell to his knees, stricken by a grief so profound it ate away at his ancient soul. He did not - could not - care that the _The Beast_ thrashed from the burns Ryan’s blood had inflicted upon it. His concern was focused on its weapon, still impaled in his friend, but melting steadily. It took two more heartbeats for the weapon to dissolve completely and Ryan to fall into the pool it had left in its wake.

Shane crawled over to the broken body. With shaking hands, he gathered Ryan into a gentle embrace. He searched for his soul, but it was too late: Ryan had departed from his corpse. 

Shane had _failed_. 

It would not matter much longer. _The Beast_ began to recover from its painful, but hopelessly non-fatal, burns. The large, lumbering creature charged at Shane, a mighty roar upon its fanged muzzle. The Forest God merely braced for an impact, and prayed that when he took his throne as Lord of the Underworld, he would find Ryan amongst the countless souls wandering his domain. 

\---

Cernunnos sheltered himself in his cabin, riding out the last, harsh days of winter. The furious season let out a final call to glory, spewing what it could of slushing ice and temperate rain. It was for not; winter would not have it's prize this year. 

Not for his lack of effort. Despite waking days ago, remnants of hibernation stuck to his consciousness like tree sap, beckoning him back to sleep. He forced his heavy eyelids open, if only to stare at the fire roaring in the stone hearth in front of him. It would only be a matter of time until Spring renewed his strength; he just had to be patient - and stay awake. 

A whimper wafted through the air, then another, followed by a soft sob. 

The Forest God’s ears perked at the foreign noises. What human dared to tread his home at this time of year? 

“Mom? Dad?”

Oh, that was _irritating_. Hot flashes of annoyance sparked up his spine as he thought of the lost human babe, already aware that he could not allow a mere child to die on his watch regardless of his lack of desire to move. A sigh escaped through his nose. As he lumbered into a standing position, he cursed the child, his parents, and his own conscience. 

The moment Cernunnos extended his clawed hand toward the knob of his front door, he paused. His true form would be frightening, and thus, far from helpful. 

But what form could he take? Something demure and passive would work to calm the child, yet do little to fight off a creature if necessary. A strong and burly body defeated the purpose of his trickery. 

It took the child’s call becoming softer and softer for him to finally opt for a clumsy combination of the two: a young man, tall and lean, with soft features. Satisfied, Cernunnos ran out the door into the chilling rain. 

Fortunately, the boy was easy to see in his neon yellow raincoat. He scuttled about near the tree line, walking alongside the evergreens without venturing passed the meadow and into the woods. 

_Smart_. A smile pulled at the god’s mask. 

“Hey, kid!” Cernunnos called out. His booming voice echoed out, chasing the birds from their trees and causing the boy to jump nearly a foot in the air. With a wince, the God extended his magic to his voice, opting for a gentler pitch. He attempted to reach him again with a- “Yo! Over here!” 

Finally, the boy turned towards him. By the gods, he was _tiny_. He didn’t have much time to inspect the child well before the shivering creature bounded to him as if his life depended on the speed at which he ran (and it may very well had). 

“Please help me!” 

\---

“This week on Buz-zfeed U-Unsolved - god damnit!” 

The moment Ryan’s head met the board of the long table, Shane could no longer contain the giggle fit that had threatened to boil over for the last fifteen minutes. A muffled, defeated chortle escaped the shorter man, just adding fuel to his laughter. Even the cameraman, normally without much humor, snickered behind his equipment as he reset it. 

“Add this one to the blooper reel!” Shane’s jovial declaration bounced from wall to wall of the dark basement room. “Don’t worry we’ll get it on take fifty-seven.” 

Ryan came up for air. “Oh man,” he breathed out. “I think it might be time for a break.” 

Shane nodded. “Yeah, we’ve been at this all day, and you’re starting to develop a stutter again.” 

Indignation replaced Ryan’s joyous expression. “How could you possibly know I had a stutter?” 

Uh oh. Anxiety warmed Shane’s collar. “You told me about it, remember?” he backpedaled. 

“No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” Ryan’s eyebrow rose higher on his forehead. 

Shane glanced at the cameraman, whose attention was focused strictly on his phone. He swallowed the lump in his throat before taking the opportunity to drag his fingertip over Ryan’s cheek. The movement was so quick that the other man hardly registered it before Shane, words deliberate, whispered, “Of course you did, how else could I have known?” 

In an instant, Ryan’s entire body sagged, his eyelids drooped, and he exhaled a single breath. “Yeah,” he slurred, “I guess you’re right.” 

Relief quickly cooled Shane’s worry, though a seed of guilt remained in the pit of his stomach. With as much concern as he could muster in his voice, he asked, “You okay there, buddy?” 

“Just tired all the sudden,” Ryan responded softly. His palm met his forehead, keeping his wobbling head from dropping. “Head hurts.” 

Shane grasped Ryan’s shoulders and stood slowly, guiding the shorter man on his feet. “Alright, it’s time for a nap.” 

“Sounds good.”

\---

Cernunnos led the way to his hearth. The boy’s boots squeaked along the wooden floor behind him. In their wake, small puddles of water formed where he had taken small, unsure steps to the warm fire. 

“Let’s get these wet clothes off of you,” The Forest God whispered as he kneeled down to the boy’s level.

Cernunnos reached for the first button of his raincoat, but the child shrank away from his hands. 

The god chuckled. “I’m not going to do anything weird, but you’ll get hypothermia if you stay in that coat.”

After a moment, the boy visibly relaxed. He waved the god’s hands away. “I’ll do it.” 

Though the kid’s hands shook, he managed to divest himself of his coat, shirt, and pants, leaving him wearing his relatively dry thermal wear. Meanwhile, Cernunnos hung the outerwear on the metal hooks he inconspicuously summoned over the hearth. 

“We’ll get these dried up in no time, then we’ll go find your parents.” 

“Do you have a TV?” the boy asked in response. 

Cernunnos felt a sudden swell of fondness for the child. He turned towards him. With a soft smile, he asked,“What? Bored of me already?” 

The boy cocked his head to the side. “I don’t really know you, and _The First Round_ starts tonight.” 

Cernunnos laughed. “Fan of college basketball, huh?” 

“You’re not?” 

The Forest God shook his head. “Not really, I just know _March Madness_ is a thing people complain about around this time of year.”

The boy made a few steps toward the hearth. He sat down before looking at Cernunnos expectantly. The Forest God followed the boy onto the floor. 

“I’m Ryan,” the boy said quietly. “What’s your name?” 

That was a difficult question to answer. Different people referred to him by different names. The Egyptians called him Ash. The Etruscans knew him as Selvans. Ancient Germans named him Herne the Hunter. Christians had associated him with the fallen angel, Lucifer, and dubbed him Satan. However, the Celts had depicted him the most accurately, as Cernunnos, The Lord of Forests and Keeper of the Underworld, but he imagined that such a title would be difficult for Ryan to repeat. 

“Shane,” he finally settled upon. “My name is Shane.” 

\---

“Shane!” 

As though the very hounds of hell nipped at his heels, Shane ran in the direction of Ryan’s shriek. His heart lodged itself in his throat as he navigated through a dark, narrow hallway to reach the small room holding his friend and the cameraman. 

“We were just setting up a camera in here and then -” the cameraman began hurriedly through heavy pants. He finished his sentence by wordlessly motioning toward Ryan’s arm. Three long scratches marred the flesh of his bicep. Blood bubbled up from where the marks were the deepest. 

Shane’s chest clenched at the sight. He took a careful hold of Ryan’s arm and inspected the wounds closely. “You’re not going to need stitches, but you should probably get those bandaged up.” 

Ryan, pale-faced and quivering, merely nodded. 

“I-I’m gonna go with him,” the cameraman announced. “Make sure he’s okay. I m-mean, t-they just came out of nowhere.” 

Shane pursed his lips and shook his head. “Ryan probably just scratched himself on something he didn’t see.”

“No, fuck you,” Ryan finally hissed. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Some _thing_ scratched me.. oh-” Ryan dropped to his heels. His shoulders dropped. The edge of the bed was the only prop that kept him from falling backwards. 

A heaviness settled in Shane’s stomach. He helped Ryan up by gently taking the crook of his arm and slowly pulling him into a standing position. “Okay, okay, go calm down in the car,” he whispered. “I’ll take some B-roll, make sure we have enough for the episode in case you can’t take this place anymore.” 

“I don’t know, man,” the cameraman said hesitantly. “I know you don’t believe in this stuff, but obviously something scratched Ryan pretty bad -” 

“Sure,” Shane agreed prematurely. “Yeah, no, I get it, but I don’t want him to force himself to stay here because we don’t have enough footage.” 

“Shane,” Ryan started, but the taller man shook his head. 

“I’ll be fine, super careful, I promise.” 

After several more protests from Ryan and the cameraman, Shane was finally left to his own devices. He allowed his mask of good humor to fall. Air escaped his flaring nostrils, and his back teeth ground together behind his glower. “Show yourself,” he snarled. 

Dark miasma, like smoke, gathered from underneath the white-washed closet door. Slowly, wisps of blackness formed a humanoid silhouette in front of Shane. Though its features were obscured by dense shadows, it was obviously not a demon, but a particularly hostile human spirit. 

Raged boiled just underneath Shane’s flesh. How dare such a pathetic creature harm Ryan? How dare it think itself powerful enough to mar his friend’s precious skin without consequence? The god squared his shoulders.

“What god do you fear?” Shane growled. 

“I fear no god, I serve the devil,” it spoke, voice harsh like gravel.

_Great_. A smirk tugged at Shane’s lips. “Then you do not recognize your master.” He summoned his ceremonial hunting knife in his right hand. “Your name?”

The creature visibly startled. It bent forward in what could be described as a bow. “Bathsheba, my lord.” 

“Bathsheba,” Shane tested the name on his tongue; it left a terrible taste in his mouth. He reached out to pull the entity by its neck. For all its struggling, Shane held it mere inches away from him with ease. “For hurting a loyal friend of Lucifer, I banish you back to the underworld.” 

Shane lodged his hunting knife into its metaphysical chest. With a ghastly howl, the ghost burst from the earthly plane in a shower of ash. The god shook his hand, sending his weapon back to whence it came. 

The moment he was no longer preoccupied with the ghost, Shane sensed another physical presence in the room. He glanced at the open door to find Ryan, wide-eyed and shivering, staring at him. His rapid breathing was barely muffled by the hand covering his mouth. 

Damnit, not again. Shane didn’t give Ryan the chance to react; he raced to him before the smaller man could attempt to run in the other direction. Shane gathered him into a tight embrace, despite Ryan’s strong physical objections. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Shane soothed, as though Ryan were a spooked animal. His hand traced up and down the length of his back. “Shhh, it’s okay.” 

Then, silence. 

Shane swallowed around the lump in his throat. Something wasn’t right. He expected Ryan’s familiar lines of _“Who are you? What are you?”_ screamed into his chest as he pounded at his shoulders with his fists. 

Instead, Ryan’s breathing slowed. Small hiccups escaped his lips as he feebly pushed at Shane’s upper arms. “Please,” he pleaded so quietly the god strained to hear him. 

Shane unwrapped one arm so that his free hand could cup Ryan’s cheek. “It’s alright, you won’t remember any of this in a second,” he swore in his ear. 

Ryan simply sobbed harder. “I don’t - I’ve been feeling like I’ve been going crazy, Shane. I can’t - I can’t remember - there’s chunks of time I’ve lost, and it was you all this time.” He gripped the fabric of Shane’s shirt.

Shane hesitated. An internal power struggle erupted between his need to protect Ryan and his moral obligation to refrain from doing anything without his consent. For several heartbeats, he was tempted to release Ryan, to allow him memories of a tangible ghost being subdued by an incarnation of the devil. 

But, he couldn’t. This wasn’t the way the truth needed to be revealed. 

_This one last time_ , Shane silently promised to himself. _Just one more time, and then I’ll tell you everything._

“Please don’t,” was the final plea Ryan made before Shane extracted the memory from his head with a swipe of his thumb over his cheek. 

Ryan stilled in his hold. Shane unwound his arm from his friend’s torso. 

To anyone else, Ryan would have appeared to be a statue, so still he could have been cut from marble. Seeing him so lifeless, in spite of his groveling, shattered Shane’s heart; tiny splintered pieces of it prickled his eyes. Reluctantly, in between involuntary sniffling, the god positioned his stiff friend like doll. 

A few moments later, when Shane willed Ryan to come to with a gentle kiss to his temple, Ryan  
asked “Hey, did you get what you - are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.” 

Shane smiled. He rubbed his wet eyes with his thumb and index finger. “Yeah, just this place is super dusty. It’s getting to my allergies.” 

“Oh, well, if you have the B-roll, let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

“Yeah…”

\---

Awkward chit-chat spilled into easy conversation, which then dissolved into fits of uncontrollable laughter as the boy recounted his childish antics with his friends. 

Eventually, the god recounted his own tales, in the form of mythological stories, until Ryan’s eyelids grew heavy and yawns passed his mouth. 

Cernunnos summoned a pillow and wool blanket. He coaxed Ryan to rest with them. “When you wake up, you’re parents will be there,” he promised. 

“Will you be there?” Ryan asked with a sleepy mumble. 

Cernunnos’ lonely heart lurched. Several centuries without a friend tempted him to make a promise he couldn’t possibly keep. Instead, he lied when he said he would be. 

A few hours passed as the god simply carded his fingers through the boy’s dark locks and he sifted through the shallow surface memories at the forefront of his mind. Ryan was a kind lad; boisterous, outgoing, and fearful at times, but kind. He would grew up to do amazing things, Cernunnos predicted. 

If he didn’t manage to kill himself first by sneaking away from his parents at every opportunity. 

It would be such a shame if his potential was extinguished by a premature death. Maybe, just maybe, the god should see his good deed to the end, ensure that his efforts to save the child this day would not be in vain. 

When Ryan’s parents finally found him, resting on a soft piece of dry grass with little memory as to how he got there, a new boy enrolled in his suburban Los Angeles middle school. 

\--- 

The blow never came. 

Shane tore his eyes open and looked up. 

Out of the puddle of water that was once the sword made of ice, a ghastly monster took shape. A translucent humanoid silhouette, draped in a pall marred by phantasmic grime, hovered between _The Beast_ and Shane. It let out a sudden screech so full of sorrow and rage it was nearly tangible. It shook Shane to his core, and for the first time in his entire existence, he was afraid of a spirit. 

_The Beast_ took a step back, but it was too late. The ghost grabbed hold of its meaty shoulders with its long, knife-like claws, cutting deeply into its flesh. The Beast cried out. The pitiful howl was quickly drowned out by another cacophonous shriek made by the phantom, this one powerful enough to melt The Beast as though it were snow meeting the sun’s rays. 

The ghost turned. Though far from its human counterpart, Shane recognized its familiar features quickly. 

_Ryan...I’m so sorry._


	2. Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone  
> No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden  
> No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love  
> No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love  
> No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world. 

Slowly, Shane stood, willing his quaking knees to not buckle beneath him. Against his better judgement, he reached a shivering hand out, compelled to assure himself that the spirit was truly there. 

What would happen if he touched the spectre before him? Would it rip him apart as it did The Beast? 

Adrenaline saturated Shane’s tense muscles the moment the creature’s hand mirrored his movement. He flinched, prepared to feel the ghost’s violent wrath on his mortal mask. 

No such attack came. 

After several rapid heartbeats, it made no motion to strike, soothing the god’s frazzled nerves. However, instead of meeting Shane’s outstretched fingers with its own, the blunt back of its claw wiped the wetness beneath his hazel eyes. 

_Oh, Ryan, poor sweet Ryan_. A wail crawled out of Shane’s throat. What had he done to deserve this kind, gentle soul? One that, even corroded by anger and sorrow, recognized the man he loved and touched him so gently? Furthermore, what had Ryan done to deserve this fate? 

“I’m going to fix this,” Shane promised beneath his breath. “I’ll fix this.”

===

The crunch of snow beneath his boots caused Shane to wince, wince, _wince._

The sound was terrible and loud, but Ryan seemed to love it. His visage reflected a mirth Shane completely envied. If only he possessed a quarter of the energy the boy exuded, Shane may not have felt so miserable. After nearly two decades of being unable to hibernate, forced to use his nights to sleep, he was tired - oh, so very tired. 

As they continued up the hill, Shane secretly prayed for an early Spring. Ryan, meanwhile, opened his mouth to catch snowflakes on his tongue. 

Once at the near top of the hill, where the black gates of a cemetery peaked over the summit, they stopped. Ryan declared it the perfect place for their first shot.

A crowd of spirits gathered just outside the railing to watch the two men. When he was sure Ryan was not looking, he gave them a single nod. In response, several of them waved. Others seemed to mutter among themselves. A few stared blankly down at Shane, as if unsure what to make of him. It was no matter, as long as they didn’t bother Ryan. 

Ryan fished his smartphone out of his pocket and made a motion with his thumb to open its camera application. “I’m going to take a few pics so everybody knows where to start filming tomorrow,” Ryan said, mostly to himself. 

Shane followed the track of the phone’s lense as it snapped shot after shot. After the fifth picture taken, he spotted something in the distance, just between the bare trees. Distress clenched his insides as a huge, lumbering, white-furred beast raced towards him from the treeline. _The Beast’s_ roar rattled Shane’s bones. 

Shit! Shane couldn’t summon his bow here, in front of Ryan. They needed to run, but where and how? It took a moment, but his brain caught up with his surroundings. Yes! Hallowed ground! _The Beast_ could not follow them into a cemetery. 

But, how was he going to persuade Ryan to run with him without raising his suspicion?

A wonderfully terrible idea formed in his head. Shane grinned, despite himself. 

“Tag!” Shane shouted as he tapped Ryan’s shoulder. “You’re it!” 

Shane knew Ryan’s competitive nature would not allow him to resist chasing him into the graveyard. Sure enough, when he glanced over his shoulder, Ryan was right behind him, outstretched hand just out of reach. The younger man’s laughter was nearly loud enough to drown out the creature’s hunting call. Shane couldn’t help but huff out a breathless chuckle at the sheer absurdity of the situation. 

Regardless of their dual efforts, _The Beast_ made impressive strides until it was only a few paces behind Ryan. Shane’s face fell as panic rushed through his heart and lungs. 

This was no good! The creature was only after Shane, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t strike Ryan to get to him, even if it meant injuring itself with human blood. 

Shane stopped at the entrance of the churchyard, reached out to take Ryan’s wrist, and desperately pulled the boy into the cemetery before _The Beast_ could swing a wild paw at his unsuspecting back. The action had more force behind it than necessary, causing Ryan to pitch forward. Seemingly, in an attempt to restore his balance, he pivoted his body, only to fall onto his ass. Wrist still shackled by Shane’s hand, Ryan involuntarily dragged the taller man onto his knees, right over him. 

For several still moments, their eyes locked and they breathed each other’s breath. Everything, including _The Beast_ , fell away from Shane's awareness until only Ryan remained. 

How long, Shane had to wonder, had it been since he was this close to Ryan? His heart ached with a sudden breathtaking nostalgia. He missed this; he missed how Ryan’s eyes would warm into the color of melted chocolate, how his plump lips would part just so, how his eyelids would slowly fall and his head would cock so very slightly. 

The tension hung thick between them, much too heavy to bear. Shane leaned forward to capture Ryan’s mouth in a deep, sensual kiss.

===

Shane didn’t want to breakup.

Granted, at first, he accepted his co-workers request to date merely out of a self-preserving interest in preventing his work life from becoming awkward. He wouldn’t know, until later, that she was a kind, genuine, beautiful person, who didn’t deserve the kind of pain he would ultimately cause. Though he tried to put it off for as long as possible, all too soon, it became obvious that he would never fully commit. She walked out the door shortly after, never to know that he was committed to an eternity spent with Ryan Bergara. 

All he had to do, from then-on-out, was bide his time until Ryan’s relationship failed - if it ever did. The very realistic possibility that Ryan would remain tethered to his significant other depressed him. 

From the other side of the couch, Ryan threw a sympathetic glance his way. He clinked his beer bottle with his fingernails. “So,” he started, elongating the word by several syllables. “You probably won’t be the only bachelor on this couch soon.” 

Realization hit Shane like an oncoming freight train. “Wait, what?” he sputtered. 

Ryan nodded. His eyes were cast down at the drink in his hands. “Yeah, it’s been awhile coming,” he took a swig of beer. “We’re not syncing like we used to. When my family asked when I planned on popping the question, and I realized that I wasn’t, it confirmed for me that it’s just not meant to be.”

Shane clasped a hand on his shoulder. He tried, and failed, not to feel fortunate for the unfortunate turn-of-events in Ryan’s life. His expression remained neutral while a smile threatened to break through.

===

_“I have to show you something…”_

The hike through the Sierra Nevada forest was a difficult one. Even for the Forest God, his human shell was difficult to maneuver around tree roots, large rocks and natural debris. Ryan, bless him, navigated the terrain right behind Shane, without much complaint, despite his numerous attempts at tripping and injuring himself. 

But, even the deepest wells eventually ran dry. 

“So, we drive for eight hours,” Ryan began breathlessly as he hopped over a decayed log. “To hike stupidly into the woods, so you can show me something? But, you won't tell me what it is - Are we even on a trail anymore?” 

Shane stopped his trek to turn and face his companion. “I know exactly where we’re going,” he assured Ryan with a small smile. 

Ryan bent forward, placed his hands on his knees, and took a small breather. After a heartbeat, he peered up at Shane. With an impressive amount of incredulity, he asked, “How can you be so sure?” 

Shane paused. How could he be so sure, indeed? His confidence wavered. What would Ryan think once he revealed his secret? How would it change things between them?

That taller man swallowed a nervous lump lodged in his throat. Regardless of the consequences, there was no backing out now; he promised to be honest with Ryan, and that was especially imperative since their relationship had become romantic once again. “Do you trust me?” 

For a moment, Ryan said nothing. He took in another deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't.” 

“Then come on, it’s just right over this ridge.” 

Shane led Ryan up the small incline until they reached a point where the shallow valley below was easily visible to the human eye. With a gentle grip, he took Ryan’s hand into his own. “Close your eyes,” he commanded with a whisper. 

Ryan raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. 

Shane opened a magical connection, through their laced fingers, to share his sight with Ryan. The younger man quaked and a single, shaky breath escaped his lips as Shane’s power seeped into his soul. 

Still, his eyes remained closed and his hand continued to clasp his. Ryan’s implicit trust warmed Shane’s core, strengthening the trust he had in their relationship. 

“Okay, open your eyes.”

===

In an effort to try something new and assuage his boredom, Shane had decided to take on the identity of a pretty, young woman for his high school persona. While the act had successfully provided some much needed entertainment, it had the unintended consequence of luring Ryan’s attention.

Ryan Bergara had never been a subtle person. His longing stares, frequent physical affection, and over-inflated masculine bravado were signs Shane could not miss even if he were blind.

At first, Shane was perturbed by his friend’s romantic interest. Having only known him as a young boy until then, it felt awkward to realize that Ryan was growing into a man, becoming comfortable with his sexuality, and capable of expressing his affection in a sensual way. 

Despite his trepidation, he couldn’t bring himself to reject Ryan’s advances, unable to summon the gall to hurt the boy in any way. Besides, humans are fickle, especially adolescents, so he didn’t see the harm in humoring him until the teen grew tired of the relationship. 

Shane hadn’t accounted for how his ancient soul would open up for Ryan. Qualities that were once merely endearing, such as his zeal, infectious humor, and unwavering kindness, had spurred on an amorous affection within Shane as their relationship ran its course. Slowly, his anticipation to see Ryan transformed from the assurance of his safety, to an appreciation for the sight of his jaw-droppingly handsome lover. With each new day, they became closer and closer, until Shane was no longer sure where he ended and Ryan began. No creature, mortal or otherwise, had ever made him feel such an emotion; it was so strong it threatened to consume him. Before the god could recognize what was happening, he was in love. 

Though their relationship had ended tragically prior to the teen entering college, Shane vowed to spend the rest of his eternity with Ryan, one way or another.

===

The slight screech of the sliding glass door cut through the heavy rhythm of Shane’s shower. He opened his eyes to see Ryan standing before him, nude, red-cheeked and puffy-eyed, but otherwise calm in demeanor.

Another apology threatened to tumble unceremoniously from Shane’s mouth, but Ryan interrupted him with a stern, “Look, it was really fucked up that you took my memories, and Millie - or, well, you - supposedly dying has got to be the most traumatizing thing that's ever happened to me, but I get why you had to do it.” Even as a mist swept over Ryan’s eyes, the corners of his lips turned. “What you showed me today - wow, just, seeing that life, that energy, and knowing something so beautiful actually exists, it almost, almost, makes up for it.” 

“What can I do to - ?” 

Ryan wrapped his arms around Shane’s waist and pulled him closer. The taller man gladly returned the affection by swallowing his shoulders up in his own embrace. The warm feeling of Ryan’s wet skin upon his own soothed the ache in his guilt-ridden heart. 

“Never, ever, leave me again, that's how you can make it up to me,” Ryan whispered against the meat of his shoulder. His grip tightened. “I can't lose you again.”

===

During one of their first outings for Buzzfeed Unsolved, Ryan generously offered Shane the ability to play his music in the car. However, after a few songs and seemingly without warning, the younger man banned the set with a firm, “Turn that off!” Afterwards, Ryan ensured that only a mutually pre-approved playlist ever entertained the two men during long road trips.

It was only after Ryan quietly sang against his chest as they lay together, that Shane recalled the song that sparked his outrage. _“I see signs now all the time, that you're not dead, you're sleeping. I believe in anything that brings you back home to me.”_

Shane swallowed. “I never realized how much... I figured since we - you were so young…” 

Ryan peered up at him; his chocolate eyes were filled with a bittersweetness that brought Shane to near tears. “I hadn't left the house in months, so my friends offered to take me to _The Queen Mary_ to take my mind off her death. I wanted so badly to believe in ghosts, Shane, so bad...it only took that stupid toothpaste to fall for me to- to hope that maybe she was still out there.” 

Shane craned his neck to place his quivering lips upon Ryan’s forehead. “I’ll always be here,” he murmured against his skin. 

The boy gave him a wavering chuckle. “It's your fault I believe in ghosts, so, um, thanks?” 

Shane huffed out an amused, “Anytime.”

===

Ryan’s ghost could not wander away from his body, they found. It was somewhat of a relief as Shane needed time to wrap his head around what he needed to do.

It was a desperate, last-ditch idea, but it was the only way to undo what had been done. 

Shane fished his phone out of his pocket. With a quick search through his contacts, he found the number he was looking for. His thumb hovered over the green call button, unsure if it would the right move to play. Well, it was the only move he had to play. He tapped the screen. 

After several rings, a deep voice gruffed out a hoarse, “Hello?” 

Shane sighed. “Andrew, I need your help.”


	3. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fall in the hands of a greater unknown  
> Let me be there  
> And tell me if you need time to prepare  
> All we’ll demand is the world  
> Because I know what you do out of passion  
> But it only makes it harder for me  
> And I know that you’re scared by the notion  
> We’ll become who we're meant to be  
> Oh what we meant to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey does anyone remember this fic? 
> 
> Whoops. 
> 
> Better late than never, right?

Shane wondered if Ryan knew he was already beyond the borders of death when he had thrown himself in front of the only weapon that could kill a god, _ The Sword of Winter _ . 

 

The mortal strike had been dealt when  _ The Beast _ swatted Ryan on the chest with his mighty paw to get to Shane, throwing the boy tens of feet away. Bleeding lungs, ruptured organs, and all, yet Ryan, beautiful, fragile, mortal Ryan, found the strength to shield Shane from a killing blow. 

 

All because Shane wanted to show Ryan what was beyond human perception. He thought the early spring trip to his cabin, erected beyond the here and now, would have been romantic, would have been the perfect place to ask Ryan to bond their souls together for an eternity. Shane shared his sight so Ryan could see the borders between winter and spring, life and death.

 

Shane never imagined how the siren song that was the curtain of life lifting over the horizon would hypnotize Ryan beyond the borders of the magical protection he constructed. How could he have ever guessed that Ryan would awaken early, look out the window, and be lured by the beauty that was the shimmering everafter, glittering like gold between the earth and the sky?

 

It wasn’t until he awoke alone, looked out the open window, and saw Ryan stalk towards the sunrise like moth to a flame, that he realized what had happened. In the next moment, he also realized Ryan had broken his protective circle by exiting it, leaving them both vulnerable. 

 

Shane ran outside, calling after Ryan, but it was too late. Before Shane could summon his bow and strike the creature, it had killed Ryan and poised itself to kill Shane as well. 

 

* * *

 

“I’m on vacation in Malaysia,” Andrew Ilnyckyj said around a yawn. “It’s like two in the morning here, can it wait?” 

 

_ Malaysia _ ? Shane thought, but shook away the thought before it could distract him further. “Andrew, listen carefully, I need your help. Can you summon your mother for me?” Shane asked frantically, hoping that his urgency translated across the call. 

 

“What are you talking -“

 

Shane took a breath and released it in an attempt to temper his growing frustration. “Look we can go through the whole, yeah-I-know-what-you-are, bit later. Ryan is dead.” 

 

Silence permeated the line, until Andrew hissed, “What did you do?” 

 

“Never mind what I did!” Shane all but shouted. The creature beside him floated back a foot; his hollow eye sockets widened a small fraction. It would have been comical if not for the stink of death around him. “Can you help me?” 

 

Andrew gave a long, drawn-out sigh. “This is a huge deal, Shane. We can’t just - Look I’ll call her, but there’s no guaranteeing that Ryan is going to be exactly flesh and bone after she’s done with him, if she even agrees to do anything at all.” 

 

Shane closed his eyes. 

* * *

 

“If you could live forever, would you?” 

 

The question finally spilled out of Shane’s trembling lips, unceremoniously vomited onto the center console of Ryan’s Prius. It had been eating away at him like a parasite until it gracelessly landed somewhere in the middle of a joke and a quip. Regardless of its lack of beauty, Shane held so much hope in it. 

 

Since Ryan’s introduction to the truth of what Shane was, the absolute devotion between them became more and more apparent. It was left unspoken, but obvious in the way Ryan’s eyes would warm into melted chocolate at the sight of him, in the way his lips would stretch into a grin even before Shane would speak, and in the way he would pant and moan for him, offering his body like a sacrifice when he had let no other man enter the recesses of the deepest parts of himself. 

 

No mortal had held Shane’s attention for so long. He was the hunter, a symbol of the fragile cycle of seasons, a reminder of spring’s fertility and winter’s death. It left him worshipped and alone, until Ryan offered him companionship for no other reason than to just be together, completing him. Shane knew that from then on, he couldn’t exist without him. 

 

“If I could live forever - it depends, would I be able to visit my family in the underworld?” Ryan posed with a knowing tone and a smirk to match. 

 

Shane laughed; his lover was so clever. “Yeah, sure, anytime you wanted.” 

 

“Then, yeah, I don’t see why not, I’d be able to do all of the things on my bucket list, maybe more now that you can let me see ghosts,” Ryan said, almost wistfully. “But I’d have to know what I’m in for first, you know, hypothetically.” 

 

“Hypothetically,” Shane agreed with a grin. “And if hypothetically I invited you to my cabin next weekend to see what’s in between the planes of existence, would that be too much for your tiny little brain to handle? Wouldn’t want your head to explode.” 

 

Ryan barked. “Knowing us, I think I’m more at risk of dehydration.”

 

Shane flushed at the thought. It had been awhile since the last time they had made love, due to their shooting schedules and preparations for a season’s worth of editing. He knew that pent up frustration would result in hours worth of writhing, screaming and coming. “It’s what you get for dating a fertility god,” Shane joked. 

 

The god was glad to see Ryan’s cheeks stain red. 

 

* * *

 

“Just call her,” Shane insisted before pulling his smartphone away from his face and thumbing the red “end call” button. 

 

Ryan’s spirit continued to stare at him. It opened its unhinged maw. “What?” it howled, the edges of the word screeching dreadfully, like nails on a chalkboard. 

 

Shane smiled crookedly. “I’m going to get Andrew’s mom to fix this. She’s - uh - she’s kind of in charge of this stuff.” 

 

The spirit cocked its head to one side. The line of its brow hitched upward, as much as one could perceive it to. “I’m not going to stay this way?” it asked, more quietly this time, though the sound still comprised of what could only be described as a cacophony of spiritual torment. 

 

“Let’s hope not, it would definitely ruin our romantic getaway,” Shane joked half-heartidly. 

 

“No kidding,” it whispered as it took in its clawed hands. 

 

* * *

 

Making love to Ryan was a holy experience, Shane decided.

 

Ryan was so receptive to his touch, to his love. When the boy returned his ministrations, it was with a devotion that bordered on worship. They could, and have, spent hours placing molten kisses upon each other’s lips while their hands roamed the hard planes of their bodies. 

 

Their individual styles of sex also meshed very well. While Shane was one to be slow, sensual, taking his time to just feel Ryan’s tight heat surround him, at the helm, Ryan took charge, fucking into Shane with a brutality that awarded them both an immense pleasure. Slow or fast, it was always intense, leaving them breathless and their bedroom covered in flower petals. 

 

The first time it happened, it surprised them both. It had never happened to Shane before, and he had bed more than a few mortals in his time. Ryan laughed away his apologies for the mess, just glad that Shane found their romp satisfactory enough to decorate his room for. 

 

* * *

 

Ryan gave Shane his virginity, unknowingly, of course. 

 

Their teenage fumbling had been fun, exciting, new, but each shared post-coital breath was tinged with guilt. 

 

Ryan thought he was honoring his mortal girlfriend with his first foray into sexual intimacy. His kindness was not lost onto Shane; the god appreciate the gentle touches, caring glances, and his checking in on Shane at every turn to ensure that this was an experience they would both remember fondly. Despite Shane’s low expectations, the fiercely emotional aspect had wrought pleasure from him. And, shame. 

 

Shane knew then, more than ever before, that he had to end things between them until Ryan was ready to face the truth. The mortal would mourn, but he would heal.

 

The car accident was easy enough to stage. He rammed his Volkswagen Bug into a light pole hard enough to wrap the metal frame around the cement fixture. It was unsurvivable for any mortal man. A touch of magic later, and a broken corpse was left in the driver’s seat of the vehicle. 

 

Shane later played the role of his own father, claiming the body so that he could provide Ryan a funeral, a place to grieve and move on. 

* * *

Sometimes, when Ryan slept, he wept, calling out for someone that never existed.

 

Only then did Shane understand the magnitude of Ryan’s love, his first love, the reason why no other love had survived the test of time. Ryan would always love her - love him. 

 

For that, Shane wept too. 

* * *

Marzanna materialized from the shadows beyond the forest. With careful steps, she approached Shane and the spirit, her gown flowing around her, and yet, seemingly untouched by grass, leaves or twigs. Her green gaze held an immortal power and undeniable anger, matched only by her scowl.

 

Shane swallowed. 

 

“I never expected this from you, Cernunnos,” the blonde goddess said as soon as she was within arm’s reach. “Asking to defile the cycle in such a way.” 

 

“You know I wouldn’t if it wasn’t a special circumstance,” Shane replied, voice even while his clenched hands trembled. 

 

Marzanna’s scowl transmuted into a smirk, and Shane wasn’t quite sure which he found more frightening. “Special because you love him, or special because you fucked this one up.” 

 

Shane let out a sound that was between a laugh and a cough. “Both.” 

 

Marzanna placed a hand on her hip. Her eyes bounced between Shane and Ryan’s spirit. After a brief moment of continued silence, she shrugged. “Lucky for the both of you, I think I have a solution.” 

* * *

Upon further discovery, it was found that Ryan’s soul was not tied to the Earth, nor to his body, but to the sword still puddled on their impromptu battlefield. It continued to exist only because it couldn’t not exist. Therefore, Ryan’s spirit would forever linger where his body had been impaled without some action. 

 

The second dilemma was that there was no longer a  _ Harbinger of Winter, _ something that would become catastrophic in the coming days if the situation was not corrected immediately. 

 

Fortunately, both issues had the same solution: give Ryan reign over winter and death, as their new shepherd.

 

Ryan shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt Shane,” he wailed vehemently. The very statement seemed to make the Earth shake with its foricity. 

 

The goddess gave Ryan a sympathetic glance. “That’s a risk you might need to take. It’s not just your love at stake, here. The world will be thrown into chaos if the cycle is not restored. 

 

“But, summer and winter were never meant to be enemies, Ryan. Spring and Autumn were shared by them both, once upon a time.  _ The Beast _ became the way he was because of a grievance Shane was too stubborn to apologize for. He allowed his anger to consume him. Instead of handing over the reigns of the cycle, winter began to chase summer away each year when he was at his strongest. 

 

It’s my hope that your love will allow the four seasons to work together again. Please, you must accept this,” the goddess explained gently. 

 

Ryan’s spirit appeared so unsure, so small, drawing into itself. Finally, after an eternity, it nodded, if only because it accepted the finality of it. There was no other option. Their course of action was decided the moment Ryan shielded Shane from _ The Beast _ . 

* * *

The ritual called for burning Ryan’s body until it was ash. 

 

To see the flesh and sinew of your most beloved one melt away like overcooked meat was horrifying. Ryan’s spirit lightly scratched his claws over Shane’s overheated, trembling back as he vomited at the base of a nearby tree. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Shane sobbed around his retching. He wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for, but he felt apologetic all the same. 

 

“It’s okay,” Ryan soothed. (His voice became more and more like an echo as the hours passed.) “I think I would throw up too if I had a stomach.”

 

Shane laughed through his tears. 

 

The god stood and turned back towards the ritual that took place. 

 

Marzanna gathered the puddle that was The  _ Sword of Winter _ into a small wooden basin, which she then poured into a large cauldron. 

 

Next to the cauldron, Ryan’s pyre began to burn out, leaving behind a pile of blackened matter. The goddess gathered as much as she could into her hands to transfer the material into her pot. After a few more shovels of remains, she agitated the concoction with a large branch, crafting a paste after several turns. A small touch of magic allowed the paste to shift and take form as she poured it over the Earth. A grey, almost-concrete appearing human figure lay at their feet. 

 

Marzanna commanded Ryan’s attention with a stare. “Once you’re ready, enter your new body. Be forewarned, to minimize the risk of you simply inheriting  _ The Beast’s _ anger, you have to make sure that any lingering anger  _ you _ may have for Shane is forgiven. That’s the only way this will work the way you want.” 

 

Ryan’s spirit glanced at Shane.

* * *

When Shane finally released Ryan’s memories to him, the boy was tight-lipped and short with him for the next several days. Ryan had expected the instances he had lost of his life to be fairly traumatic, but it was the cold, calculated way Shane stole his memories that angered him the most, he claimed. It was selfish, done only because it would be too difficult to explain, not out of Ryan’s best interest as Shane had claimed. 

 

Shane apologized profusely, but Ryan needed the time to be upset. 

 

“You messed with my head, Shane,” Ryan had explained. “It’s going to take a bit to forgive you, let alone trust you again.” 

 

Ryan’s coldness melted into warm affection by the end of the weekend, but Shane never figured out if Ryan trusted him again.” 

* * *

Ryan visited Millie’s grave at least once a month until Shane revealed himself to be her.

 

Oddly, he would take the opportunity to visit her grave if ever he was particular upset with Shane. Those instances were few and far between, but Shane suspected that Ryan found comfort in speaking with a ghost, even if it didn’t exist. 

 

Ironic. 

* * *

 

Ryan’s spirit did not hesitate. It hovered over the human mold and sank into it, as though it were plunging itself into a deep body of water. Once Ryan’s spirit was out of sight, both Marzanna and Shane waited with a bated breath to see what would occur. 

 

Slowly, so very agonizingly slow, the mold took on the color of flesh. 

 

An odd sense of propriety and polite sensibilities took over Shane. He magicked a set of boxers onto the mold, careful not to tangle his magic with the natural set of occurrences before him. (Marzanna shot him a glance that was both amused and sharp.) 

 

Once Ryan’s shape took form completely, hair, nails, and all growing from their respective places, Shane kneeled beside his body. He stroked his charcoal strands and waited. Waited. Waited. 

 

Ryan shot up like a rocket. Just as quickly, he turned to Shane, who braced himself for any oncoming blow. He never received one, instead, his lover wrapped his strong arms tightly around his neck. 

 

“I guess that means you’ve forgiven me?” Shane chortled into the side of Ryan’s neck. He placed a small kiss on the flesh. It felt warm and alive, just as before. 

 

“Of course, dumbass. I love you, and love isn’t about holding grudges,” Ryan whispered. His voice held a certain musical quality to it that it hadn’t before, something Shane couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was arresting. “Besides -” the newly-minted god pulled away from Shane, “- if I wasn’t used to you being a dick, I would have broken up with you by now.” 

 

Shane pushed at Ryan’s bare shoulder, earning himself a laugh; it sounded like a song. 

 

By the gods, as Shane took a moment to graze his eyes over Ryan’s new form, he couldn’t help the stutter of his heart. Ryan had always been handsome. That hadn’t changed, and truly, he retained every single mortal imperfection that made him utterly perfect. Yet, Ryan somehow held a glow that highlighted all of his allure. 

 

The glow of his skin was that of the sun reflecting off of fresh snow. An amber gaze, bashfully half-hidden by his long dark lashes, was as warm as a roaring fire in a hearth. The smile upon his full lips held a softness only rivaled by the fluffiest of blankets, shared with a lover. Ryan was the very essence of winter; he had inherited all of its grace, all of its beauty. 

 

Shane only hoped he was worthy of holding onto it. 

* * *

 

It took some practice, but Ryan was able to summon his symbol with some intense focus. It was no longer a sword made of ice, but a shepherd’s crook made of oak. 

 

Ryan didn’t need an explanation as to why. It was a part of him. He was the  _ Harbinger of Winter _ , the shadow of death, the shepherd of lost souls, but also so much more. 

 

Ryan Bergara, second half of the season’s cycle, was Cernunnos' husband; they both liked the sound of that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments validate my existence! :)


End file.
